Jeremy’s words seemed casual at first glance, but they were laced with a trap.
If Celia was said to be as beautiful as rumored, he would try to implicate Dietrich in the emperor’s assassination, and if she was said to be less beautiful than rumored, he would seek to meet Celia himself to verify the truth.
Dietrich did not fall for the wordplay.
“She is, after all, a criminal who assassinated His Majesty. She is not someone worthy of Your Highness’s curiosity. And…”
“And? If you have something to say, finish it.”
“What value could the beauty of a mere criminal possibly hold?”
At this point, Jeremy could no longer hide his irritation.
“You are far too dull, even for fun.”
“…”
“Please, don’t waste time on pointless matters and prepare His Majesty’s funeral grandly. Without any gossip.”
Jeremy said his piece and left. The maids and knights trailing behind him glanced at Dietrich as they passed.
Dietrich, who always wore his uniform, was dressed today in just a thin shirt. As a result, his concealed physique was clearly visible.
The well-defined muscles straining against the white shirt rose and fell with Dietrich’s breathing.
The knights gazed at Dietrich with a mix of awe, envy, and respect. The maids, their cheeks flushed, couldn’t take their eyes off him until they left the corridor.
Dietrich, however, didn’t spare them a glance and strode toward the room connected to his office.
The room was large and spacious but, unbefitting the chamber of the knight commander who held sway over the imperial palace, it was austere. It contained only the essentials: a wardrobe, a bed, a table, and a bookshelf.
Always methodical and never expending effort on unnecessary things, Dietrich had done something unexpected today by giving his uniform to Celia.
Dietrich furrowed his brow. The memory of the earlier scene came to mind.
For a moment, he had felt pity for Celia, who, with her white shoulders exposed, wore a startled expression like a frightened rabbit.
With the scent of hyacinth emanating from her ability, she would have been fine even without his help.
But why, then, had he sent the knights into the prison to assist her?
‘It was a golden opportunity to confirm her ability.’
Had he felt momentary pity because she was a terminally ill woman with only a year left to live?
Dietrich felt pathetic for having felt that fleeting pity and even giving her his uniform.
However, negative thoughts only hinder, never help, in navigating the world. Dietrich quickly changed his mindset.
‘…There will be plenty of opportunities to confirm it.’
Dietrich had no intention of killing Celia. At least, not yet.
Her life belonged to him, so he alone would decide when to take it.
Even if Celia was fated to die in a year as a terminally ill person, Dietrich could keep her alive long past that if he deemed it necessary.
There was one thing Celia didn’t know: Dietrich, too, possessed an ability.
Dietrich planned to keep his ability a secret from her until the moment she died.
If she ever realized he had an ability, Dietrich would kill her without hesitation.
He had spent years preparing to bring down Abelon, or more precisely, the three dukes who led it. No disruptions to his plans could be allowed.
‘Even if she has an ability, if I deem her useless, I’ll discard her.’
Dietrich’s gaze darkened. To clear his thoughts, he decided to soak in cold water. He removed the shirt he was wearing and unbuckled his pants.
As the cumbersome clothes came off, a lean, muscular body, devoid of any excess, was revealed.
His back was covered with scars from countless assassination attempts. Some were from poison, others from burns.
Dietrich had the ability to erase these scars without a trace, but he chose not to.
His ability manifested through his bodily fluids, excluding blood.
[This is the timeline separator]“It was about time to replace the emperor anyway. You’ve saved me some trouble.”
A man with lustrous silver hair spoke in a gentle voice. His long hair cascaded down his back, and his smooth, pale skin gleamed as he propped his chin with one hand, gazing at the chessboard.
A soft clack sounded. It was the sound of him moving an ivory white knight.
“Don’t you think so, Balt?”
The man called Balt, seated across from him, looked up. With tanned skin and brown hair, Balt’s large frame made him resemble a fierce beast.
Unlike the silver-haired man, who exuded a refined, priestly air, Balt radiated a wild, untamed beauty.
Balt glared at the silver-haired man with irritation.
“Ileon.”
The silver-haired man, called by his name, narrowed his eyes. His inscrutable blue eyes curved gracefully within his deep-set gaze.
It was a lovely smile that noble ladies would fawn over. Unfortunately, Balt was not a noble lady but a noble heir.
Moreover, he was the head of the Portman dukedom, one of the three ducal families supporting Abelon, and one of only two swordmasters in the empire.
“Stop that disgusting smile. It makes me want to vomit. Can’t you see I’m focused on chess?”
His language was crude, despite his lofty status.
Ileon, looking at Balt, let out a low chuckle and said,
“You’re going to lose anyway, so why not have a conversation instead?”
“You damned bastard! Just because you’re good at chess doesn’t mean you can look down on me. A game isn’t over until it’s over!”
Balt shouted and moved a black knight. Ileon, looking at the chessboard, shook his head.
“You. Training muscles is fine, but how about thinking a bit more? Otherwise, the weakest will devour you.”
“…What did you say?”
“Look closely. By moving your knight, your king is left defenseless. A foolish king who abandons the knight protecting him, failing to see the bigger picture…”
Trailing off, Ileon curved his eyes and moved a white pawn. With a clear clack, the pawn settled near the king.
“Checkmate.”
“Argh! You infuriating bastard!”
Enraged, Balt roared and flipped the chessboard, table and all. The expensive mahogany table crashed to the floor with a thud.
The chessboard and pieces scattered across the floor. Unhappy with the mess, Ileon immediately called for the butler.
“Clean it up.”
“Yes, Master.”
The butler bowed deeply, righted the fallen table, and quickly gathered the scattered chessboard and pieces before leaving the room.
Ileon looked at the still-fuming Balt with a relaxed expression. Despite their stark differences in appearance and personality, both men hailed from the three ducal families, said to bring down even the mightiest.
Balt was the head of the Portman dukedom, while Ileon was the head of the Gredrick dukedom, the family of the current empress.
“Balt, you should do something about that rough personality. What would others say if they saw this?”
“Let them talk. Do you think I care about such things?”
Balt snorted. Ileon, looking at him, smiled faintly and continued,
“Why did Celia Brillion kill the emperor?”
Balt noticed Ileon’s attempt to change the subject but, feeling guilty for overturning the innocent table, pretended not to notice.
“That trashy puppet emperor had his hands on more than a few women. Plenty held grudges against the lecherous emperor, so perhaps she killed him out of resentment.”
Balt said, stroking his chin. Ileon murmured softly,
“…Resentment.”
“What would a beautiful woman like her lack to kill someone? Probably got annoyed with the old emperor’s incessant desires and killed him.”
Sometimes, Ileon envied Balt’s carefree ignorance. Living without overthinking would surely mean less stress.
“Do you really think that’s the only reason she killed the emperor?”
“How would I know? If you’re so curious, why don’t you go to the palace yourself and ask her?”
“…”
“If you want the truth, you’d better hurry to the palace. Unless you want to talk to a cold corpse.”
Ileon furrowed his brow. Balt, looking at his pensive face with frustration, stood from his chair. The chair creaked under his massive frame.
“The emperor’s mad dog will try to kill her for the crime of assassinating the emperor. A dog without a master has no choice but to kill her to survive in the palace.”
“…We don’t yet know how a dog without a master will act.”
“For heaven’s sake, even when I speak kindly, you make a fuss.”
Balt strode toward the door. Just before leaving, he turned back to Ileon and added,
“I really don’t like you. Almost as much as that emotionless bastard.”
Offended, Balt left the room with that final remark. The door slammed shut with a thud.
Alone in the room, Ileon thought about Dietrich.
What kind of dog could claw its way up from the bottom to seize control of the palace’s military? A dog that could manipulate its master at will was no longer just a dog.
Ileon muttered to himself,
“A mad dog? More like something wearing a dog’s skin, a nickname it crafted for itself.”
Male lead Asks for a Divorce Every Day
It’s not often you come across a plot like this in the female-dominant genre — make sure to check it out!
This is a novel I’m planning to reread as well.
The male lead is strong, skilled in martial arts, and not the usual fragile type you often see in matriarchal novels.
Meanwhile, the female lead is a scientist—rational and logical. Even when she falls for the male lead, she doesn’t let her emotions cloud her decisions.
If you push through the first few chapters, you’ll gradually find the story really intriguing.
It has a mix of mystery, detective elements, and romance.
The author’s writing style is like crafting a puzzle—except they deliberately leave out a few pieces, making it hard to predict what happens next, yet keeping you hooked.
In the end, everything will come together and be explained.
One-sentence summary: Wife, stop playing with beakers and look at me!
In a laboratory accident, research scientist Zhu Wansheng accidentally travels to a matriarchal world. The original owner of the body is an eighteen-year-old only daughter of a wealthy rouge merchant, already married with a handsome young man.
Zhu Wansheng grins: Nice! She always said she was heaven’s favorite granddaughter. After a life of toil in her previous life, she can enjoy blessings in this one.
However, her joy lasts no more than three seconds as bad news arrives: the original owner’s family is about to go bankrupt, and her husband wants a divorce.
Even worse, she’s stuck with a research system full of restrictions.
Zhu Wansheng: ? Is this the destiny of a research dog?
——
Faced with this mess, Zhu Wansheng pours herself a bowl of wine to drown her sorrows. In her drunken haze, her husband arrives.
His figure is imposing, holding a long sword, with a dignified air that captivates Zhu Wansheng.
Gu Yingqing, however, looks at the alcohol-reeking Zhu Wansheng with undisguised disgust and coldly asks, “Divorce or not?” The intoxicated Zhu Wansheng mumbles vaguely, “I think… it’s not… it’s not… impossible!”
——
The next day, after sobering up, Zhu Wansheng is full of energy, rolling up her sleeves ready to make a big move. As for yesterday? She has no memory of it.
Zhu Wansheng is ambitious; a research dog fears nothing!
Upgrading rouge, extracting fragrances, producing perfumes, researching lipsticks… all shall bow to the power of modern technology!
The original owner’s dying rouge shop is revitalized. Her mother is pleased and with a wave of her hand, passes on the family business to her. As she takes control and her experimental results gain popularity, it’s the pinnacle of her life…
——
But there are always those who can’t stand to see her doing well. Jealousy, scheming, assassination attempts – they want nothing less than her life.
The person who has always kept his distance from her suddenly holds her tightly in his arms, eyes full of concern.
She is unharmed, but he falls into a pool of blood…
Zhu Wansheng feels guilty, “I can grant you one wish.”
Gu Yingqing tentatively circles his arms around her, carefully resting his head in the crook of her neck, pleading softly, “I regret it. Can we not divorce?”
Zhu Wansheng: ? When did I agree to a divorce?
[Small Theater]
The newly developed rouge is beautifully packaged, and Zhu Wansheng is eager to try it.
Gu Yingqing suddenly appears: “My lady, may I apply it for you?”
Cool fingertips lightly brush her lips. His Adam’s apple bobs as he leans in for a light bite.
Zhu Wansheng: ?
Gu Yingqing: It smells so good, I wanted to taste it…
On a warm spring day, Zhu Wansheng tries a new perfume: “Spring Night.” Gu Yingqing corners her against a wall.
Warm breath lingers on her neck.
“My lady, from now on, may I test the fragrances for you?”
[Humorous female scientist vs scheming live-in son-in-law male lead]
[Touch the gear icon in the bottom right corner of the screen to move to the next chapter if you want.]
